First of all, if the news item is true, congratulations to Scott for becoming a diva even before he’s earned it as a professional speaker. Most people develop diva habits after they’ve become highly regarded, well known, highly paid professional speakers, so Jenson shows courage in putting the attitude before the accomplishment. He’d be right at home on that show – what’s it called? – Toddlers and Tiaras?

There’s a further irony in that Jenson apparently invited himself to speak in the first place, a delightful fact which adds a soupcon more to his diva status.

Second, his diva-esque actions raise an interesting question: is there an audience size that is in fact too small – where you should (as a professional) refuse to speak? After all, the contract a speaker makes with a conference organizer assumes that the organizer will deliver the audience and the speaker will deliver the speech. It’s an essential quid pro quo that drives the whole business.

So what should a speaker do if the conference organizer doesn’t deliver the audience? Should she still give the speech?

And what is that magic cutoff point?

Sorry, Scott – the answer to the first question is that if even one person shows up, you should honor your contract, or your verbal agreement, or whatever, by talking to that person.

That said, the size of the audience does affect how you interact with the participants.

But Scott wasn’t even close. The magic cutoff number is six. Six people or more is a speech. Five or fewer is a conversation.

I once worked with a wonderful speaker, brilliant and professional in all respects. She was invited to give a speech as part of a series of talks contracted with a company that was going to deliver audiences in a number of cities.

The company did its advertising and promotion, and confidently told us to expect roughly 500 people. The good organizers reserved a nice auditorium capable of holding the requisite number.

The night came and we met the speaker at the venue about two hours beforehand, to give us a chance to check the space out, test the sound, and so on.

The organizer rep met us, we ran through all the preparation, and settled in the green room to wait for the big moment. About 30 minutes beforehand I went out to look at the house, when the doors were opened.

There was no one there.

I was a little alarmed, but sometimes audiences are of the last-minute variety, so I hung in there, merely remarking to the rep that the house “wasn’t filling up.”